Of Loyalty and Traitors
by topaz11
Summary: Set after Harry Potter and the HalfBlood Prince, this follows the lives of Harry, Draco and others as the magical world sinks deeper into despair. Chapt.10 Trust and Suspicion
1. Contemplations

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Warning Note: Takes place after book six - 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' and contains spoilers. If you haven't read the book yet, I advise you to do so before reading this story.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 1

Contemplations

A stone mansion with an appearance suggesting it had been around since the beginning of time itself stood alone in the rugged country side. It appeared to be quite deserted, with no one disturbing the eerie silence that held heavy in the air.

Despite its appearance, the mansion was, on this evening, host to a rather devious gathering. Concealed by the sturdy walls, in a room in the heart of the building, a group of people stood in dim lighting. Many of in this crowd could only be described as sinister, the type that one might go a great deal out of their way to avoid when walking alone. Most of them wore black cloaks and robes that added to this impression.

Although you may expect such a scene to have a sombre atmosphere, the witches and wizards present seemed morbidly amused and in anticipation of a celebration of sorts. The reason for this would be that the Death Eaters and followers of the Dark Lord had just tasted real victory for the first time in what had seemed like eternity. A major opponent in their battle for power had just been defeated and with no significant price for them to pay.

Relief was another emotion found in many in this room. Voldemort, the unspoken name of the Dark Lord, had been exceptionally angry as of late, with his followers failed attempts to gain a prophesy of immense importance to him. It was common knowledge amongst the Death Eaters that when Voldemort was angered, they would suffer the consequences, often in the form of the painful Cruciatus curse. This time, his commands had been followed relatively well and his goal acheived.

The owner of this mansion, a large man who perhaps seemed even more intimidating than the rest, stood near the centre, immersed in conversation with a sallow man with dark hair. As he spoke, Fenrir Greyback's pointed teeth were shown clearly.

From the outskirts of the group, a boy who was significantly younger than most in the group accidently glanced towards these two men. He unintentionally flinched, disgust evident on his pale face, and looked away. Dark shadows could be seen under Draco Malfoy's eyes and he wasn't in the mood for celebration.

Trying to avoid looking at Fenrir, Draco forced himself to look back at Severus Snape. He glared at his Potions Professor for a couple of moments, as Snape basked in the glory of being the one having murdered Albus Dumbledore. The spotlight, Draco brooded, should have been on himself if he had carried out the task that he was assigned.

He would have killed Dumbledore, Draco tried to convince himself. If Snape had held off for a little bit longer instead of trying to interfere in order to gain the praise of the Dark Lord, he would have raised his wand and shouted that fatal curse.

And now, as he thought it over, he was sure the Dark Lord wouldn't be happy at his failed attempt to prove himself loyal to the cause. The Dark Lord was hardly known to be forgiving and wasn't in the business of handing out second chances. Which, Draco supposed, wasn't a_ completely _bad thing in general - just for him.

Dumbledore, he gave people second chances.

Didn't end up helping him a whole lot.

Draco laughed bitterly. It wasn't like he had no respect for the old man - he had been, after all, one of the greatest wizards of the time, hadn't he? But he had also been a fool, too trusting to see that Snape was indeed serving the Dark Lord until it was too late.

Once more, Draco saw the sadistic humour in that situation. Even Harry Potter didn't like Snape, or trust him, for that matter, and Harry Potter didn't, in Draco's opinion, have much in the brains department. Yet his judgement had proved superior to the headmaster's. It was really quite ironic.

Draco found himself recalling Dumbledore's words to him, as Draco prepared to kill the old wizard.

_"Draco, Draco you are not a killer."_

Those words, even now, made him feel uneasy. So maybe he hadn't had it in him to kill the headmaster. But, he reminded himself, he was going to kill him, he was just biding his time...

Anyway, he better be a killer. From now on. Or else he may find himself in a terrible situation with the Dark Lord, who he had been brought up to respect. And fear.

"The old fool! He's dead! DEAD!" Fenrir said loudly, pleasure and triumph on his haggard face.

Draco had lost count of amount of times he had heard the werewolf say that, in varied wordings, since the murder. _Werewolf_, he thought scathingly, trying to keep looking in the other direction. The cannibal-like man scared him a bit more than he would like to admit, even to himself. He was quite positive that the man, was, to some point, insane.

And he had never liked werewolves.

In all honesty, he found it a bit degrading to be working alongside one. He could see their usefullness in the field of intimidation, but he had always considered them as rather inferior, particularly the poverty-stricken one that had taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts in his third year.

"All due to Severus here", a familiar voice added.

Draco turned to see that his mother had arrived on the scene, smiling thankfully at Snape in a way that made Draco feel even more sick. He had no doubts that his mother had been worried of the consequences that her son may have met in attempting to kill Dumbledore, but he really hadn't considered her 'help' that helpful. He'd known what he was doing, he thought, trying to smirk, and he _would have_ succeeded on his own.

Snape smirked proudly, obviously pleased with himself and the continuous praise he was receiving from various people. Draco couldn't help but notice many of the Death Eaters sounded less than sincere, and recognised the bitter jealousy that many contained behind strained smiles. There was no doubt that most would have given their left arms - Draco grinned at Peter Pettigrew with malice - to have had done something worthy of the recognition and higher status that Snape would no doubt receive when the Dark Lord graced them with his presence.

He didn't regard 'Severus' very highly any more, although at one stage Draco had respected the older man considerably. The man treated Slytherin house with considerable favouritism, and always had some amusing insult to fling at scarface and his crew. at one stage, Draco had respected the older man considerably. However, the way he kept pushing at Draco to kill Dumbledore had greatly shaken the boys faith in the man. Snape had had quite a bit to do with the Malfoy family over the extent of Draco's life, but Draco was well aware that Lucius disliked him. However, Lucius disliked a vast majority of people, so that wasn't necessarily saying much.

"I dare say the Dark Lord will be with us shortly" His mother whispered to him, looking anxious yet somewhat excited.

Draco forced a smile onto his face, hoping the Dark Lord wouldn't focus too long on who _didn't _kill Dumbledore. He gulped slightly, earning a glare from his mother's sister.

As he struggled to hold a confident smirk on his face, his mind continued to work overtime.

He would carry out whatever task he was assigned next, kill whoever he had to. He would do so without hesitation. He would outshine Snape. He would become a 'killer'. He would teach Potter, the weasel and the mudblood to fear him.

He would be worthy of receiving the dark mark on his forearm before too long. And definately before those blundering idiots, Crabbe and Goyle. He would serve the Dark Lord and gain honor and respect from all the lesser Death Eaters.

He would show them all that he, Draco Malfoy, was indeed a killer.

He didn't have a choice, did he?

Snape had just killed the only means of escape.

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A/N- Thanks for reading this, I hope to have the next chapter done by tomorrow. Reveiws are more than welcome.


	2. Their Dark Lord

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 2

Their Dark Lord

Every person in the room fell abruptly silent as Lord Voldemort apparated in front of them.

A great deal taller than the avarage man and with a form that could only be described as skeletal, topped off with a flat, deathly pale face that bore a strong resemblance to a serpent, Lord Voldemort was a rather intimidating wizard. With first-hand experience of the horrors that their Lord was capable off, the Death Eaters knew that respect and obedience were the keys to avoiding pain and death.

Although he was sure that many at his school could imagine frequent conversations between himself and the Dark Lord, Draco had only seen the wizard on four occasions that he could remember. He wondered whether one could ever get used to seeing such a person - the appearance struck both fear and awe into him each time.

That one wizard could have such an impact that people would fear even saying his name was an example of the Dark Lord's power over the magical world. A power that Draco couldn't help but admire.

"Master, Dumbledore is dead" Snape said, kneeling onto the ground before Voldemort.

"Really...how pleasing" the Dark Lord surveyed the room until he spotted Draco, whom he met with a sinister smile.

"The boy finally got up the nerve to kill his headmaster did he...or was it that someone else has to carry the task out for him...?" Voldemort pondered out loud, his gaze moving from Draco back to Severus.

Narcissa's face went a shade whiter, and Fenrir Greyback released a raspy chuckle.

"The boys weak, my Lord, couldn't bring himself to do it...arranged it all but couldn't carry out his own plans..." Fenrir mocked.

The Dark Lord regarded Draco, who stood tense and pale near the back, and turned to look expectantly back at Snape.

"I-..I aided him in the end, my Lord" Snape replied, glancing up, now sounding slightly unsure of where this discussion could be headed.

"Very well, Severus..." Voldemort said cooly, "And to think I had ever doubted you...you will of course be rewarded greatly. Our position has improved greatly now that interfering fool no longer blocks our path. It seems Hogwarts will be able to offer very little resistance against our next attack." His smile, if the unpleasant curl of his lips could be described as such, sent a chill running down Draco's spine.

"What is your next plan, master?" Fenrir asked eagerly. A greedy, bloodthirsty look could be seen clearly in the rugged man's eyes.

"Don't you worry, Greyback, you will find out soon enough. And when it happens, I assure you that the Hogwarts students will be at your...mercy." the Dark Lord replied.

"Of course, we have the young Malfoy here to thank for showing us that the walls of the old School are more easily penetrated that one might think." Voldemort continued, turning his attention back to the pale boy. " We will have to teach him, however, that hesitation can be rather...painful..._crucio!_"

The pain that hit Draco Malfoy then was almost more than he could endure. He had been lucky, he supposed, to have avoided it up until now. Down on the rough stone flooring, the boy writhed and thrashed, feeling like his whole body was being ripped into pieces. He couldn't refrain from screaming out in desperation.

Even after the Dark Lord had removed the curse from him, Draco's body continued to ache in fierce agony. He lay on the ground until a pair of arms dragged him back up onto his feet, and shoved his further towards Voldemort.

"Let that be a gentle warning for you. I'm sure that next time I hand you such an important task to do, you will complete it to a more satisfactory level. Yes, boy, your planning was sufficient and I will be giving you a second chance to prove your loyalty...I can be quite _merciful_ at times, you understand, young Malfoy." the dreaded wizard said in a voice that was laced with sadistic amusement at the pained look that remained on the young man's face.

Draco struggled to make himself nod and reply, "Yes, my Lord".

He waited, expecting to be given another task then and there, but the Dark Lord merely moved over to where Fenrir was and began having a hushed conversation with the werewolf. Draco took a step back towards where he had been first standing, glad to no longer be the centre of attention. He vowed to himself that he would carry out anything more he was assigned. The torment of that Unforgivable curse was really too much to go through on a regular basis, he winced.

Draco's chain of thought moved to wondering if Potter the Scarred Wonder had ever been held subject to the curse. He found himself hoping that he had been - after all, it would seem unfair that a _follower _of the Dark Lord should have to endure more pain than someone that opposed him.

A sudden burst of anger ran through him, stemming from the insult he felt over being treated like a slave. He pacified himself by placing the blame on a certain Severus Snape. He knew his reasons behind this weren't very just, but he once more assured himself that he would have killed Dumbledore if given a second longer. Then the Dark Lord wouldn't have punished him. He would have earned himself a position of a bit more power, rather than the mockery of the other Death Eaters.

Narcissa patted her son on the shoulder, carefully watched Voldemort as she did so. Draco realised that his mother didn't seem to want to be caught sticking up for him after her - _their_ - Lord had deemed him worthy of punishment.

He shrugged away from her, annoyed.

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva McGonagall, the newly appointed Headmistress was walking through the empty corridors. Every so often, she would pause to look into a vacant classroom.

The school seemed a great deal less friendly without its usual occupants, and the place that Minerva often thought of as warm, safe, _alive_ even now seemed cold and somehow dead. However, she felt the need to be there at the moment, to check that nothing was more out of order that was to be expected. She wasn't sure what she though she would find - the idea of a Death Eater hiding under a desk somewhere sounded quite ludicrous - yet in light of the recent events she felt obliged to check for any undiscovered dangers that could still be lurking.

Of course, Minerva had doubts as to whether the school would be open for the year to come. When Albus met his death in the hands of one of the school's Professors, parents had been shocked that such a thing could take place at the school that they had came to see as a safehaven for their children. Their faith had been in the late headmaster and his renowned magical abilities to keep the students safe.

Now Minerva was sure that even if Hogwarts remained open, a significant number of the students would not return.

In fact, she had already received owls from concerned parents informing her of this situation. And she really wasn't sure she could blame them. The news that a Death Eater had been allowed to teach their children, without anyone doing anything about it further enforced the opinion that many of the teachers were untrustworthy and that the students lives were in danger if they attended.

Yes, it was true that Hogwarts would be offering a restricted amount of protection in the next school year. Minerva beleived, however, that the magical world in general was getting more dangerous with each passing day. And that the students required schooling now more than ever, particularly in branches such as defense against the dark arts and charms.

There were certain skills that they had to learn in order to survive during the discord. To stand a chance against the Death Eaters and creatures controlled by Voldemort.

As the headmistress of the ancient school, it was her responsibility to give them the education required for this.

She wasn't that the school Board of Governors would decide to allow Hogwarts to be kept open. They had promised her that a decision would be reached shortly, yet they had a horrible feeling that it mightn't be the one that she hoped for.

_Oh Albus_, she thought, _I'm sure you'd have wanted the school to be kept open_. Even when the chamber of secrets had been opened a few years ago, the school had remained open. Through so many ordeals in the past, the school had remained open. The thought of it having to be closed now was almost to much for her to bear, even if she did understand why it should be.

_If only you were here_... It wasn't as though she didn't realise that the man would one day be gone, his old age had certainly been catching up on him as of late, but she would never have imagined murder as being the cause of death.

The old man had deserved a more peaceful end that the one he had met.

Minerva was still coming to grips with the identity of the murderer. Severus Snape. She herself had never liked the man much, had never wanted to risk trusting him. Albus Dumbledore had trusted the man fully, never wavering in the belief that the man was on their side. So she had attempted to cast her doubts aside and have faith in the old man's judgement.

Very few people would hesitate in beleiving something told to them by one as great as the former headmaster, after all.

_What had gone wrong? _She would puzzle over the issue on an hourly basis. If she could have asked the man one more question, it would be over why he had trusted the potions master. It was hard to beleive that Albus could have made such a mistake. She realised that everyone made mistakes, of course, yet still...for Albus to have made a mistake of such a large scale...

Minerva had tried to find a way to reason that Dumbledore's opinion of Snape could have been correct, to think that maybe Snape had _had_ to commit the murder, that he still might be on their side...

None of the explanations she could think of added up.

Except that Severus Snape was a very talented Occlumens and the trusting, caring headmaster had beleived his lies, for the reason that he would always give someone a second chance. Then, at the instruction of his secret _master_, he had murdered the man in cold blood.

Minerva hoped that of all people, Severus met the death that _he _deserved.

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	3. The Choices One Makes

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 3

The Choices One Makes

Draco lay sprawled out on his bed, leafing idly through a book lying in front of him. He had received the book from some aunt or uncle as a gift on his last birthday, but hadn't got around to reading it. He had been, at the time, a bit pre-occupied with organising his former headmaster's murder.

He picked at a loose strand of the thick emerald blanket that covered his bed, gazing at the gruesome curses depicted on the pages. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this dark arts book would have been given to him by his mother's sister, Bellatrix. It seemed like her kind of thing, really. Why use a simple 'Avada Kedavra' when there are spells that can bring about much more blood, gore and misery?

He mused over the concept that someone so obviously dedicated to disturbing killing methods and illegal spells causing maximum bodily harm would take the time to send a boy a birthday present.

He sighed, placing the book aside.

It wasn't as though he didn't appreciate the thought behind the gift. Though, of course, any thought behind it would hardly have been along the lines of 'I hope you have an enjoyable birthday my love'.

More likely something like 'Hope you make the family proud by killing as many mudbloods as possible and further developing your taste for extreme violence'.

Extremely likely if it had indeed been given to him by his dear aunt Bellatrix.

Bellatrix Lestrange had been pushing him to get more involved in the practice of dark arts for some time now. Not for Draco's sake, of course, but merely so that he could be of more use the Dark Lord and she could take as much credit as possible for it. That was how he saw the whole situation, anyway.

A faint knock sounded on Draco's bedroom door.

"Come in." the boy responded, sitting up.

His mother entered the room, clutching a letter in her hand. Draco was hardly surprised to see worry evident in his mother's pale eyes. Narcissa Malfoy had became quite anxious and fretful as of late. Actually, Draco guessed that her behaviour may have arose back when his father had been arrested down at the Ministry of Magic. He observed the letter she was holding, sure that it didn't contain what he would consider to be good news.

"The D-Dark Lord has decided y-you can be of some use in the next step, D-Draco" his mother told him, forcing her mouth into a little smile. "It should be a bit easier that the l-last one, I think. He appears to think you have pr-promise..."

For some reason, the way his mother was acting irritated Draco. For a second, he wasn't sure he wanted to 'have promise' and he highly doubted that this next thing that the Dark Lord wanted him to accomplish would be much easier.

"Lets hear it then, Mother" Draco drawled.

Narcissa managed to pull herself together a bit before replying.

"Well, it seems logical that we must continue to pick off other any other wizards and witches who have risen against our cause in the past...those who were dedicated to Dumbledore and those that the Ministry whom are capable of meddling. Our master also thinks we will be effective in breaking that Potter kid down in the process, especially if we target those around him. He hopes that you will be particularly helpful in breaking down Potter's support network formed by his more juvenile companians..."

She paused for a moment, observing her son carefully, before carrying on.

"You've informed your father and I a number of times of the hatred you feel towards the boy...if you focus on the reasons behind your veiws, I'm sure you will be successful. You can be discrete, of course Draco, hardly any need to endanger yourself. And I'm sure our Lordship would want you to enlist the help of some of your more _trustworthy _associates from your former school."

His mother fought to catch her breath - she had been speaking at an extremely fast rate - and watched the boy in front of her nod his head in acceptance of the news.

As she turned and left the room, Draco collapsed back onto the bed, a familiar sickness swooping through him.

Such things were much easier said than done.

Many miles away from the Malfoy's home, another person was also recovering from receiving a rather upsetting letter.

Headmistress McGonagall glared at the parchment before her. It seemed parents weren't the only ones with doubts of the safety at Hogwarts, with the school Board of Governors confirming that the school would have to be 'closed until further notice'.

They justified their decision by adding that during war, which certainly was seeming inevitable, drastic measures must be taken to ensure the well-being of the young students. A time had approached where parents needed to be free to act as they saw best for their sons and daughters. During such times, many would want keep their offspring under their own watchful eyes.

Minerva felt overwhelming frustration at her lack of control over the situation. She could fully understand the veiws offered by both the governors and the students' parents, yet she was quite convinced they were disregarding certain factors. She was sure that those with muggle backgrounds, for example, would certainly be better of in the campany of competent magical folk.

She sat down in her chair in the office she still had touble referring to as her own, contemplating matters. Minerva planned to continue teaching those that she would have access to through the Order of the Phoenix. The Weasley children, along with Harry and Hermione, she reasoned, would probably find themselves requiring such training more so than most. And the witch had made it her aim to help the Longbottom boy reach his full potential.

And there would definately be others that would need it.

Calmed by the thought that she could still further the education of a number of her students, she gazed around the room. It had changed very little from when Albus had been headmaster, with the only significant difference being the empty perch where Fawkes the phoenix had once sat. The women didn't have a clue what had happened to Fawkes, finding him to have disappeared not long after Dumbledore's death.

Minerva opened the doors of the cabinet behind her and it was then that a shimmery substance caught her eye.

Contained in a familiar ancient stone basin with magical symbols etched across the sides, the silver waves swirled, illuminating the area around it in a similar way to moonlight. Minerva recognised what she was looking at to be Albus Dumbledore's pensieve.

Hence began the inner battle.

All of the questions that she had never had answered by the old wizard came back to her in great force. The exact terms of the prophecy involving Harry Potter, she was already knowledgeable of, yet she longed to know how to help the boy get through it alive. Any reason as to why Albus had placed such trust in Severus. How far Voldemort had gone in his quest for immortality, how Harry was supposed to defeat him if the feared man was in fact immortal...

Would she have been given these answers if Albus knew he was to die?

Minerva didn't know; the man had tended to be very secretive with what he knew.

She wondered if he had intended her to discover the answers from the pensieve. It seemed unlikely, she had a guilty feeling that it may be an invasion of privacy for her to enter into personal memories. Yet surely Albus would want them to be as best prepared as possible, and Minerva was she needed the information greatly...

Yet Harry had given her the impression that Dumbledore didn't intend for her to know.

The headmistress looked up at the portraits on the wall. Dumbledore's was sleeping, something his portrait had spent a vast majority of the time doing.

Though wizard portraits could capture a near precise account of the personality of whom they depicted, they didn't supply the knowledge nor the memories that the person may have had. In the few times that Minerva had managed to catch the wizard awake, she found it was far different to talking to the man she had known for most of her life.

A tear rolled down the suddenly aged woman's cheek.

She dragged her eyes away from the pensieve and attempted to distract herself by checking the contents of her desk drawers.

The first drawer she opened was stuffed with sweets and Minerva smiled, amused, as she shuffled through the bags of lemon sherbets. There she found, concealed under the various forms of confectionary, a rolled up piece of parchment.

Seemingly out of place in the drawer, Minerva withdrew it curiously. By doing so she noticed the elegant handwriting scrawled across one side of the funnel. It simply read 'For the Headmistress'.

Startled, she unrolled the parchment with trembling hands.

'If you are reading this Minerva, it is safe for as to assume that time has caught up on an old man. I have no right to now give orders on the running of a world in which I no longer live, as would not be I facing the consequences for any unwise advice.

I hope you can understand that, for this reason, the wizarding community - including yourself - must be let to make your own choices and decisions. This is why the only instructions I leave for you are to support Mr. Potter and all of the others to the best of your ability and to continue the fight against Tom. In such times, never underestimate the values of love, trust and co-operation.

I have faith in you all to do what is right, rather than what is easy.

Your Sincerly, Albus Dumbledore.'

Minerva blinked to clear her eyes, before reading the note jotted down below.

'P.S.- I hardly advise you to ponder in the past, yet to look towards memories to shed light on a matter can, in dire circumstances, be acceptable.'

Before she had time to give this statement the attention it deserved, the offices was lit up in a series of bright colours. Her clock, which she had bought up from her former office earlier that day, was the source of this. The rotating planets were radiating beams of light, set to alert her to the fact the she was running late for an appointment.

Carefully folding the parchment and placing it in the pocket of her navy cloak, she strode over to the fireplace. She then paused, murmering some words that returned the clock to its normal state. Minerva grabbed a fistful of floo powder and threw it into the flames, which flickered to green.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

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A/N - Thank-you for reading, I'd love to know what you think so far!


	4. Of Weasleys and Such

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 4

Of Weasleys and Such

"Hey, you...move it..."

Ronald Weasley prodded white queen with his index finger.

The chess piece advanced maliciously towards Harry's black king and his remainly pawn. Harry groaned as the pawn fell victim to the queen's wrath, leaving him no choice but to order his king to retreat backwards pathetically.

On Ron's command, the queen started towards him once more. As Harry surveyed the chess board, he was hit by a feeling of deja vu...

"Check mate," Ron stated triumphantly. "Again."

Harry rolled his eyes, bored with playing wizard chess. A wave of frustration came over him.

"While Voldemort's out there gaining supporters and doing who knows what else, we're hiding away at Grimmauld Place playing chess." He stated bitterly.

"Yeah, well," the redhead muttered uneasily, "There isn't really that much that we could do to help, is there? I mean, they don't tell us much, do they? If we were told more, then maybe we'd think of something we could do to help..."

The dark haired boy look away, feeling guilty. No, Ron didn't really know that much at all about the situation, but the same did not no apply to himself. Vague shapes of possible horcruxes flittered across Harry's mind, each with no visible location. That was Harry's main concern; where to begin his search? They could be anywhere...

He turned back towards Ron. He was beginning to realise he would require a great amount of help, if he was to destroy the horcruxes, yet he was wary about endangering his friends too much. He was sure that they would rush to his aid...

And possibly wind up the next victims of Voldemort.

"And anyway, chess, you know...it helped us stopping Quirrel from getting that stone...never know when it might come in handy do you?" Ron went on, justifying their actions, " It can teach you strategy, planning, I mean, that's what the game is all about, aye? Maybe we will find ourselves in a battle against the Death Eaters some day - well, really, we've seen the chances of that happening - and who knows how valuable it could be. Imagine You-Know-Who as opposition's king. Actually, he'd be the queen, the king can't do much..."

Ron stopped, and Harry could imagine by the smirk spreading over the other boys face that he was picturing Voldemort dressed up similar to a queen.

He was pleased that his best friend hadn't lost his sense of humour, regardless of all the Weasley family had been through. They would no doubt have high standings on Voldemort's "People I Would Like To See Dead and Now" list, through their continued efforts to hinder his plans.

And, of course, through their widely known association with the Boy Who Lived. Harry felt, deep down, that anything bad that may happen to them was surely his fault.

Now they would all be confined to Grimmauld Place, the only house still deemed safe... he had overheard Arthur being told that returning to the Burrow would be suicide. Harry knew that they would have preferred to have Bill and Fleur's wedding outside the home that had been in their family years. Now the wedding was to be held in less than a week, in a location that Harry and even Ron had not yet been told of.

They had been told, however, that a large number of Aurors would be attending the ceremony, in hopes of preventing any unwelcome visitors turning up. Harry couldn't help but wonder whether the Aurors may in fact make it a more worthwhile target...

"Hey Harry, is something wrong?" Ron asked hesitantly. "You look kind of dazed..."

Harry almost jumped, having been so lost in his thoughts that he had practically forgotten his friend was in the room.

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry, of course you wouldn't be alright, what a dumb question, with what happened with Dumbledore and Snape an-"

"Ron, it's alright. Seriously. I wasn't thinking about that, I was just, y'know..." Harry reassured him.

"Yeah, well..." Ron didn't appear entirely convinced, but didn't push for any further information.

A possible uncomfortable silence was avoided as the dying flames in the fireplace suddenly came to life, changing colour as they did so.

"Good Evening Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley." Professor McGonagall emerged from the fireplace, nodding at each of the boys in turn.

"Evening, Professor." They replied, almost in usion.

The guest didn't come as a surprise to them, she had come and gone often since the holidays had began. Many people had - various aurors, professors, member of the Order of the Pheonix, even Neville Longbottom's grandmother had shown up once, wearing her renowned vulture hat. A meeting of the Order was due be taking place - visitors increased at these such times.

McGonagall paused as she walked towards the next room, glancing back at her Gryffindors.

"Actually, I would like to speak to you after the meeting, Potter...maybe you also, Weasley..."

With that, she turned and strode out of the room.

"Wonder what she's gonna tell us?" Ron mused.

---

"Master Malfoy," a small house-elf whispered, cautiously approaching the wizard.

It was well known among the house-elves of the Malfoy estate that Draco Malfoy, while he possessed a cruel tongue, wasn't violent towards them as Lucius had been, but the boy did seem to be in quite a temper.

At this moment, he was slashing a glimmering sword through the air, battling against a sword he had enchanted to act as his opponant. He was striking the sword with much more force than was required.

The house elf knew from experience that a sharp weapon and a bad tempered Malfoy was never a good combination and was therefore reluctant to approach the angry boy.

"Master Malfoy" he repeated, louder this time.

Draco turned to look at the elf, still clashing his sword against the enchanted one.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"Masters' Crabbe and Goyle are waiting for you to join them in the sitting room. Th-they have been there for a while, Sir"

"I've been busy."

The remained, unsure of whether he dared push the issue further.

Draco sighed, muttering "I'll be down in a minute".

"Yes, Master Malfoy, I'll tell them that. Thank-you Master Malfoy." He said, relief evident on his face.

The house-elf, whose name Draco couldn't remember, disappeared, presumably down to the sitting room. Draco retrieved his wand from the pocket in his robes and pointed it at the enchanted sword, murmering. The sword fell to the floor, lifeless, and the young Malfoy placed them both back into a cabinet.

He didn't rush to get down to the sitting room, instead taking considerable time to change his robes, have a shower and walk downstairs at a leisurely pace. He wasn't very eager to see the pair, whom he still, after six years, addressed by their last names. Which really said a good deal about their friendship.

He supposed to couldn't really call Crabbe and Goyle friends of his. He found their stupidity rather tiresome at times, though he could admit there was the occasional moment where it was quite amusing. Basically, they just did whatever he ask of them, and in return he did all of the thinking, Draco did find people like them useful; they didn't ask questions and their physical strength was no doubt an asset for him.

Yet they would be expecting him to tell them his next plans, expect him to give them instructions which he had at this stage thought of.

Oh well, he could always improvise. Keep things vague, which he normally did anyway with Crabbe and Goyle. Too much information would just send them into a further state of confusion.

He entered the sitting room and took a seat on the satin couch.

"Goyle. Crabbe."

"Malfoy."

"Yeah." Crabbe answered, already looking a wee bit overwhelmed.

The two sat staring at Draco, waiting to hear the words of wisdom.

"So...ummm..." Damn, he'd have to come up with something better than that. He started again.

"The Dark Lord wants us to do away with a few more people." Draco stated.

Ha, Draco thought proudly, as his two guests looked at him with a mixture of shock and awe. He was going fine. If only it was this easy to bluff through everything with the Dark Lord himself. He had been reading about leglimens earlier that day, taking note that he should try learning it sometime. Occlumency sounding worth looking into as well.

"Who?" Goyle grunted.

"How?" Crabbe added.

Hmmm...good questions...

"Potter's friends. I guess we could try stunning them and then seeing if the Dark Lord want to use them as bait again." Draco could handle stunning a couple of people, and although the idea of a hostage had been used before, he was sure it was worth another try. It would work until he could come up with something better.

There was a long pause.

"Granger and Weasley." Crabbe said proudly, with what only could be called a smile.

"Yes, I suppose, thought there might be a few easier targets."

"Easier to kill them."

Draco stared at Goyle, surprised. Now really wasn't a great time for him to find a few lost brain cells. Still, if Goyle and Crabbe pulled off the murders and he took credit for the plan, he wouldn't have to face what he thought of as his killing phobia for a little longer...and he would still be the one rewarded...

"It will depend on the circumstances in which we find them."

This statement conveniently sent Goyle back to looking lost and Draco smirked.

"But if the circumstances fit, then I suppose I might let you." He added.

As he ushered them out of his house, he decided it was time to form his vague ideas into an actual plan. With the price of failure being...he shuddered as he remembered his last experience with the cruciatus curse.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder that if he succeeded at this, the next thing he was assigned would be a great step up from stringing together a few plans.

----

The Order meeting went on for far longer than the last few had, so by the time that Minerva McGonagall came out to talk to Harry and Ron, the boys were stuggling to keep their eyes open.

Regardless, she informed the two that Hogwarts would, at this stage, not be opened for the following year.

Harry groaned.

"Oh well, look on the bright side, no school work!" Ron said, though he didn't appear as cheerful as he sounded.

"Hermione's gonna be devastated." Harry said. He hoped that Hermione's parents would soon agree to let her come and stay with them. The Grangers had somehow caught wind of the news of danger and although Hermione insisted they weren't to worked up about it, they wanted to spend a bit of time with their only child before allowing her to stay at Grimmauld Place. Harry wasn't angry at them; he could see the reason for their concern, but Ron's complaints about it were slowly beginning to drive him mad.

"You will, however, continue to receive lessons for what we consider to be most critical. Professor Lupin and Professor Flitwick will be tutoring you two and Mr. Longbottom. I will be checking in on these lessons when I see it appropriate."

"Neville is joining us? Well, at least we will get to see some of our other friends. When Hermione gets here, it will be a bit like classes at Hogwarts, I guess." Ron said, looking a bit more optimistic.

"Yes, I suppose so, Mr. Weasley. Now, would you be so good as to allow me to speak to Harry alone for a few minutes?" Their former transfiguration teacher requested."Don't worry, I wont keep him long."

"Alright..." Ron replied, clearly disappionted at being kept in the dark once more.

As Ron left the room, McGonagall watched Harry with a serious expression.

"Now, Harry, is there anything I can help you with? Anything that Professor Dumbledore may have been trying to help you acheive? I may be able to give you further guidance. I know of the prophecy, though I admit I am not clear on what Professor Dumbledore may have planned to enable you to defeat him when the time comes. I will of course keep anything between just you and me if that is what you want."

Harry thought this over for a moment, remembering Dumbledore's instructions to him,

He didn't see there being too much harm in confiding in her what Dumbledore had told him of the horcruxes and Voldemort and he could certainly use some extra help in figuring out their locations...

But it didn't feel right for him to go against his mentor's orders at this stage. If, further on, they hadn't made much progress, then he might be willing to, but for now - he smiled slightly - he was still 'Dumbledore's man through and through.'

"Thank-you Professor McGonagall, for your concern..." Harry began, noting his teacher expression was more of frustration than of the concern he had mentioned, "but I'd prefer not to tell too many people at this point. If I need help in the future, I'll be sure to come to you, Professor."

"If you're sure, Mr. Potter." She replied, rubbing her temples as she left the room.

---------------------------------------------

A/N- A bit longer than the last few chapters, hopefully. Next chapter should be out on Monday.

Please take the time to reveiw if you like it!

Thank you!


	5. Strategy

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 5

Strategy

Draco was pacing across the length of his bedroom as the middle of the night drawed nearer, ideas running through his mind, each more unlikely than the next.

He realised then that it was time to approach the matter from a differents angle, getting back to the facts and working from there.

'Well,' he reasoned in his mind, 'Where Potter is staying now must be harder to penetrate than Hogwarts itself...probably guarded with a secret keeper.'

He had a few ideas of whom such a person could be, but for now it would be alomost impossible to reach the Weasleys', who were by no doubt also in the same location as Potter. He had learnt from some Death Eater that their terrible excuse for a home had been deserted for quite some time.

So that was out of the question.

'Now...who does that leave?' Draco wondered, as it suddenly dawned on him that Harry was running out of close friends at a rather alarming rate. And those left, he was planning to eliminate, he thought, feeling a slight twinge of guilt before he threw it aside.

It wasn't like Draco had people queuing up to comfort him when anything went wrong in _his_ life. Just because Potter had been used to having people worry their heads off about the '_Boy Who Lived_.'

"Welcome to the real world, Potter" He said aloud in a snide tone.

Twirling his wand idly between his long fingers, he tried to think of easier targets. There was Granger, of course, too smart for her own good, but not smart enough to stay away from Potter. Would Granger's muggle parents be as eager as the Weasley's for their kid to associate with a walking danger magnet?

He made a mental note to look into that option further.

Then there was the werewolf, who, as far as Draco could tell, was quite a father figure in Potter's life. Wormtail had mentioned that Lupin had been a close friend of Potter Senior, and Black, the boy's godfather.

Of course, Draco remembered with faint disgust, Wormtail had also been their 'close friend' at one stage. The rat was a coward, as far as he was concerned. He didn't join the Death Eaters for respectable reasons, he joined because he was too scared to do otherwise.

Hadn't he been in Gryffindor?

Draco mentally shrugged.

Anyway, back to the werewolf. Draco got his thoughts back on track...Lupin may very well be with Potter as well. Yet for some reason, he had a feeling that a former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was likely to be doing something a bit more productive.

He'd look into that one also.

Who else were there? Relatives? Yes, Draco thought, Potter's relatives were the reason he had always been safe while at Privet Drive. Someone had said that he probably wouldn't be returning to to them, and Draco found this easy to believe. Surely even _Potter_ would have worked out he was superior to muggles by now.

Bood is thicker than water, though.

Potter would by all means blame himself further if his last relatives were to suffer. Was it possible to get through the defenses on their house now that he had left them?

Draco had heard rumours about his rival's Aunt and Uncle. People around Hogwarts had often mentioned that they treated their nephew cruelly. However, he was fairly certain that the rumours were just that - rumours.

'I mean, he was the 'saviour of the wizarding world', they probably worshipped the boy. He probably had them running around like house-elves for him.' He thought with a mixture of contempt and amusement. Muggles didn't deserve any better.

He would have to ask around to find out the chances of him reaching Potter's family.

Granger may be the best place to start still, however. They had seen before the extremes Potter was willing to go to in order to save his friends, and the girl's muggle family could offer little protection. Of course, there was a good chance that magical sercurity systems would have been installed as a result of her being such a likely target.

As Draco finally settled down into his bed to catch whatever sleep he could before the sun rose, he felt that he was beginning to make some progress.

-----

Morning approached at Grimmauld Place and downstairs Mrs. Weasley bustled around in the kitchen making breakfast for its residents.

Harry awoke with the unpleasant memory of a dream that he had that night. He couldn't remember it in great deal, yet it had involved a discussion held between Voldemort and Snape in what had appeared to be a stone dungeon of sorts. The general gist of the conversation had been of Dumbledore's death and Voldemort being pleased with Snape.

Harry couldn't remember any more than that, but that was enough to make him feel disgusted to the point of almost being physically sick. The hatred he felt towards Snape at this stage seemed to match that which he felt towards Voldemort himself. The man betrayed Dumbledore in a way that seemed even worse that Peter Pettigrew's betrayal of Harry's parents.

His former headmaster and mentor had trusted Snape when no one else did, because Dumbledore was that type of wizard - good willed, generous, trusting...

Too trusting? Harry wondered. He then thought back to what he had been told of Tom Riddle. Dumbledore had known all along...he hadn't trusted him...

Maybe old age had taken its toll on the great wizard.

Snape...Snape had turned around and thrown it all back in the kind old man's face. He had killed him. Harry could still see the moment as though it was still happening, something about it haunted Harry even more that the death of his godfather had. It was the ultimate betrayal, he could still recall the cold look of disgust on the potions master's face as he had raised his wand to cast the fatal curse.

Tears that had not let been released stung Harry's emerald eyes as he lay curled up amongst the scarlet and gold duvet.

"Morning 'Arry." Ron mumbled from the next bed, unable to see his friend's face.

"Morning, Ron." Harry replied, attempting to sound happier than he was.

He heard Ron stumble out of bed and assumed he was getting dressed.

"Meet ya downstairs, 'Arry." Ron said, still not sounding fully awake as he left the room.

Harry forced himself out of bed and into some clothes. He looked in the mirror on the way out. His eyes did look a tinsy bit red, but nothing anyone was likely to put up on. He instinctively attempted to smooth is messy hair back down.

Downstairs, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Lupin and Charlie Weasley were already eating breakfast. The older Weasley brother had been staying with them, but was usually occupied with Order of the Pheonix tasks during the day. Harry and Ron would have liked to have been allowed to join the Order as well, but Mrs. Weasley had put her foot down on that issue. Harry, however, had a feeling that a few of the other members would give in before to long, especially now the boys would no longer be spending most of the year at Hogwarts.

"Have something to eat, Harry dear, help yourself." Molly said warmly as the boy entered the room.

Just as Harry was about to take a seat at the table, an owl fluttered down through the window he was standing by, narrowly avoiding him. The owl landed in front of Ron, who hurridly untied the letter attached to its foot.

"It's from Hermione!" Ron exclaimed happily as he opened it. Harry and the others looked up in interest.

"She ain't to happy about Hogwarts being closed - I told her about that in my last letter..." Ron had been the main correspondant with Hermione during the holiday. Harry was ashamed to admit that he had often had other things on his mind lately, although he was certainly still concerned about when his friend would be joining them.

"Yes! She's coming to Grimmauld Place next week!" Ron practically shouted, pieces of half-chewed toast flying from his mouth.

Harry grinned in response, relieved. He had a nagging feeling that the sooner Hermione was with them, the safer she would be. There had been a series of attacks on muggles and muggleborns alike since the end of the school year. Colin Creevey's father and younger brother Dennis had been killed in the last of these, something which Harry deeply regretted. He felt a great deal of sympathy towards his enthusiastic young friend and had owled him the day before, expressing his deepest sympathy.

The members of the Order had quite a job attempting to prevent these attacks occuring, especially now that they had a shortage of spies in Voldemort's ranks. Harry longer to help them, but the issue of the horcuxes were still forthmost in his mind.

He longed to have some idea of what step to take next. Harry found himself once more wishing that Hermione was there - at least she might have came up with a few possibilities since the end of their school year. Such things would be foolish to write in the letters sent through the owls, even Harry had come to realise some of the precautions that have to be taken at times like these.

"How are you this morning, Harry? Sleep well?" Remus asked him, smiling but with concern in his grey eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine thanks, Sir." Harry replied, not totally telling the truth. Nothing in his dream would of been of any use to the Order, so he felt no need to bother them with it.

He had been tempted the day before to seek Lupin's aid in finding the Horcruxes, but since had had just arrived back from visiting Tonks, Harry didn't think it fair to put pressure on him. He'd been under enough pressure in the past, it was good to see him relaxing a bit for a change. And there was no doubt that the work he would be doing for the Order would be stressful enough.

Harry trusted Lupin with all of his heart and wondered why Dumbledore hadn't told given him permission to disclose the information to the Order. Surely they could be moving at a faster rate.

He supposed the old man must have had his reasons; spies, maybe, Harry reasoned.

When Harry finished eating, Ron suggested that they look around the house a bit more.

"You never know what you might find in a place this...all sorts of old things tucked away..." Ron shrugged, with a tone that made Harry think Ron had came up with this idea in hopes of finding something interesting enough hidden away that may keep Harry entertained.

Harry understood, as Ginny joined them and they left the kitchen, that he hadn't been the best company as of late. He felt slightly embarrassed by this, and vowed to try and have a more optimistic outlook in future.

As the three of them walked though the hallways, looking in the rooms they passed, they moved into an area that seemed for some effect of the lighting to be darker than the rest of the house.

"You guys been here before?" Harry asked curiously, as the place seemed quite unfamiliar to him.

"Yeah, once or twice." Ginny replied.

"While you were with the Dursleys' last year, Harry." Ron offered as explanation. "There is a couple of rooms over this way that I thought might be worth checking out."

Harry pushed against a solid looking doorway at the far end. It didn't move until the combined weight of Ron and him was leaning against it.

The room was dusty, with a window on one wall that had thick, old-fashioned drapes hanging over it. There were a few cardboard boxes stacked up in a corner, and a cupboard with cluttered shelves opposite these.

"Lupin was cleaning it up a bit at one stage, back before we started our fifth year, Harry. He just threw stuff in boxes and onto the shelves, I guess. Wasn't hight priority - people seem to prefer the rooms on the other side of the house. For good reason to, maybe, I heard that he found a fair few dangerous artifacts over this way. Sirius was cool, but I can't say I think too highly of his family."

Harry nodded. Sirius had been living proof that you can't judge people by their families.

Something about the darkened room gave Harry a feeling he couldn't quite place.

Ron began shifting through the contents on the shelves. He picked up a rolled up piece of parchment and opened it up, eyebrows raised.

"Someone was quite the artist, aye, Harry." Ron said, screwing up his face and he held the parchment up ofr his friend to see.

It was a drawing in black ink...a skull, with a snake as a tongue...

Harry stared at it, revolted.

"The Dark Mark." He stated. "Maybe the design for it or something."

"Yeah." Ron replied, tossing the parchment aside."Sick."

They continued to look the shelves over, not finding much else of interest, though many of the things appeared rather unpleasant. A lingering feeling remained in Harry as the others eventually got bored and wandered out of the room.

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A/N- Thank-you for reading! PLEASE reveiw and let me know what you think so far!


	6. Of Horcruxes and Secrets

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 6

Of Horcruxes and Secrets

Rubeus Hagrid large boots left muddy marks on the stone floor as he marched into the castle, Fang following loyally behind. With an expression of fixed determination upon his face, he continued up through the corridors until he reached a familiar stone statue.

The gargoyle sat before him, unmoving.

"Uhh..." Rubeus paused for the first time.

"Sugarquill...pepper imp...chocoball...lemon drop..."

None of these attempts had any effect on the statue.

"I don' know, what d'yeh think, Fang?"

The dog barked faithfully at his master, who smiled sadly in return. Another set of footsteps approached them.

"Actually, Rubeus, you will find that the password is currently 'animagi transfigured'." Minerva stated, at her words the entrance becoming clear.

"Oh, yeah, o' course." The half-giant mumbled, the thoughts of Dumbledore's passwords being things of the past bringing tears to his squinty eyes.

"I'm assuming you wanted to talk to me? Come on, then." The headmistress spoke in a kind tone as she led the way up the spiralled staircase and into the office.

"Yeah, tha' I did."

Rubeus looked awkward, as though he wasn't really sure about what he was going to say - or for that matter, whether he should say it at all. His eyes drifted up to Dumbledore's sleeping portrait, and although this did nothing for his blurring vision, he seemed to gain confidence in himself.

"Yeh see, Professer, I bin doin' some thinkin'..."

"...and?" The headmistress urged him to continue.

"And, well, seems likely to me tha' yeh-know-who and th' death eaters might be plannin' to launch a series o' attacks on any wizarding families that don't support 'im, maybe - maybe tomorrow night."

Minerva just stared at him blankly, a mixture of surprise and confusion etched into her face. It seemed obvious to her that this wasn't just a theory created in someone's mind, particularly not in Hagrid's.

"W-Where did you hear this, Rubeus?" She asked, drawing herself together.

"Uhhh, yeh see...I...I was at Hogsmeade, in the bar."

"...and?" Once more the headmistress felt the need to press him to continue.

"An' I overheard folks talkin' bout it." Rubeus carried on, looking doubtful. "That's 'ow I 'eard, not sure if it's true an' all, just thought that yeh could tell the Order to keep an eye out, is all."

Minerva felt she would certainly be needing some time to think this over a fair bit.

"Anything else, Rubeus?" She asked, sighing heavily.

"Actually, yeah...jus' wanted teh make sure that the Weasleys and 'Ermione were out of the way, them bein' Harry's friends, y'know?"

Feeling certain that she once more wasn't hearing the full story, Minerva nodded.

"The Weasleys are safe at Grimmauld Place. Hermione is currently in the care of her parents, but will be joining the others shortly." She reassured him.

Having clearly said all that he planned to, Rubeus nodded and then bid her a good day and left the office, seeming awfully relieved to be leaving.

Minerva didn't doubt that the large man had good intentions, but she was rather wary as to how he may have got wind of such knowledge. Plans of the Death Eaters were hardly likely to be discussed in public bars, unless of course it was a set-up. She was, in all truth, unsure what to make of such news.

It certainly wouldn't hurt to pull a few strings and have Miss Granger at Grimmauld Place by the next day, but stationing members of the Order around all the other likely targets? An attack tomorrow night...it could very easily be a trap to eliminate the whole of the Order of the Pheonix.

She also found that she had no easy way to verify the information. Snape had been the only spy that Dumbledore had spoken of and he was by no means serving _their _side, was he? The best they could do would be to keep their eyes and ears open...but if it _was_ true, they shouldn't waste an opportunity to save as many lives as possible.

Those who weren't willing to join the ranks of the Death Eaters certainly deserved the aide of the Order, as both friends and potential allies in the fight.

Minerva grabbed a fistful of Floo powder. Really, she might as well just be living at Grimmauld Place these days.

----

Grimmauld Place was more crowded than usual for the next day. All members of the Order that weren't tied up with urgent business were there for discussions on what moves should be taken next and many had different opinions on what these involve.

Following rushed talks between Molly and Minerva, Hermione was requested to join Harry and the Weasleys' a bit earlier. Feeling the urgency in the air, she accepted right away, rather to the dismay of her parents.

Now, however, while the Order was having their meetings, Harry, Hermione and Ron were able to have one of their own.

Curled up on a sofa in the library, Hermione unrolled some new parchment and grabbed a quill.

"Let's start by summarising what we know, it will make it easier to understand. The horcruxes, seven including you-kn- I mean, _Voldemort_, himself, wasn't it, Harry?"

"Yes, one was the diary, another, the ring. Then there is the locket. The cup, Nagini, and lastly something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's."

Harry knew these of by heart, having recited the continuously in his head since Dumbledore's funeral.

"Ok, now looking at the list, we are sure that the diary is gone, leaving six. Then removing the ring that Dumbledore destroyed, we have five. It's not as bad as it could be, Harry." She gave her friend a smile of encouragement.

"Then there is the locket...that's the wildcard here. Before we move on, we need to work out whether 'R.A.B' succeeded in destroying it. Perhaps looking for well known people with the initials wasn't the best way to go...do you think it may have been a Death Eater who turned on his master?" Hermione took the mysterious note from Harry and read it once more.

"They address V-Voldemort as the 'Dark Lord'. Do people in the wizarding world commonly do this, or is it just the Death Eaters who do so?"

This question was directed at Ron, the only one them who had been aware of the magical world for the whole extent of his life.

"Yeah, I think it's a Death Eater thing. I mean, others might do so occasionally, but yeah, usually the Death Eaters."

"Now, Death Eater surnames beginning with 'B'" Harry pondered, catching on.

There was silence.

"I give up." Ron said finally, shrugging. Harry found himself nodding in agreement.

"Black." Hermione said, watching her friends reactions.

"Black? Hermione, where were you when we realised it was _Pettigrew_ who betrayed Harry's parents?" Ron snorted sarcastically, throwing his arms in the air and flopping backwards against the couch.

"No, Ron, she means _Regulus Black_!" Harry cried out, convinced they had found the answer. "He was a Death Eater, wasn't he? And Voldemort ordered him to be killed for some reason or another, didn't he? It must have been because he had found out about the horcruxes and destroyed the locket!"

"Mmmm...not really the theory I had in mind, Harry, but I do agree that we may have found the right person."

"What's wrong with my theory?" Harry asked her, faintly annoyed.

"Well, for starters, I doubt Voldemort would have known that Regulus had found out. The note would seem to contradict that, wouldn't it? And on the matter of destroying a horcrux, you guys saw Dumbledore's hand. It can't have been a simple task, and I somehow don't think that Regulus would have managed him if he was indeed 'R.A.B.'" Hermione explained to him.

"Slughorn gave the impression Regulus wasn't too bad at magic." Harry protested, trying to cling on to the last hope of their being only four horcruxes left for them to deal with.

"I rather think he would have have been more exceptional than that to have succeeded." Hermione replied softly.

"Look at this house, Hermione! Imagine all the dark arts equipment that would have been here at some stage. There must have been something to destroy a horcrux with."

"I'd also like to believe that he destroyed it, but until we have evidence of this, we will have to assume that he didn't." Hermione sighed.

Harry agreed with this, deep down. He could see it would be a problem if they regarded it as destroyed and when he finally confronted Voldemort, found that he was still immortal because there was another horcrux still existing.

"Okay, what's the next step then?" Ron asked, looking at Harry and Hermione expectantly. "Do we keep looking for the locket, or move on to the next one?"

"I think we should do a bit of research now, actually." Hermione replied, gazing over the books on the surrounding walls. "I'll see if I can find anything _here_ on horcruxes. These books may be more dark arts orientated. Maybe if you two could see what you can find out about the founders of Hogwarts and what items they may have left behind."

Harry nodded, this having sounded logical enough to him.

The three of them began their search as a troublesome night brewed about them.

---------

"I've been thinking over the task the Dark Lord assigned you, Draco." Narcissa said as she approached her son.

"Really, Mother? Well, I think I will be able to handle this one myself." The pale-faced boy replied stiffly.

He stood up and grabbed his black velvet travelling cloak, thinking he'd like to go for a bit of a walk. People had been pestering him continuously about this task, even more so than they had when he had been asked to kill Dumbledore. They didn't have faith in his ability any more, Draco reasoned in disgust. Even Snape had tried conversing with him a couple of times, asking him irritating questions about what he had planned. Those were conversations Draco had escaped from as fast as he could.

"I can help you, though." She continued, almost pleading.

Draco noted that his mother had an awful lot at stake here. If he screwed up this time, he wasn't likely to be the only one to pay with his live.

"The Granger girl, we checked on her, she is no longer with her parents and for now is out of your reach. Listen, Draco, your best bet is Lupin, you're more likely to find him out in the open."

"Any ideas where, Mother?" Draco asked, caving in.

"Yes, but I can't tell you at the moment. Places to go, you realise." She smirked slightly.

Draco had nearly forgotten what the Death Eaters had planned for that night. He had heard of it, of course, but it didn't really involve him, the Dark Lord had not requested him to be part of the group conducting it. He noted now that his mother was wearing black robes that could quickly made part of the Death Eater outfit.

"Quite alright, I have places to be tonight as well." He replied, striding towards the fireplace in the sitting room, stopping on the way to collect some floo powder.

Diagon Alley, maybe, he mused. And from there, Knockturn Alley. He quite enjoyed going to such places. Never know what useful things you may find for sale. Making his decision, he threw the powder into the flames.

"Diagon Alley" He commanded, stepping into the green tendrils of fire.

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A/N - A week since I last updated, I believe. Sorry about that, I had a cold and a school assignment due in.

I hope to have the next chapter up by tomorrow, or the day after at the latest, this time.

Thank-you for the reveiws, they mean a lot to me, please keep them coming! )


	7. In Times Of Trouble

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 7

In Times of Trouble

Arriving at Diagon Alley, Draco was amused to see that it was even more deserted than it had been during his previous visit. Indeed, many of the shops that had in past years thrived in the once popular area now were boarded at the windows. The few people that Draco did see walked fast and wore hoods that covered most of their faces. They avoided eye contact.

Flourish and Blotts, still open in despite of the circumstances, was the first shop that he bothered to enter. He was not surprised to find no other customers inside and the shopkeeper eyed him warily. Draco didn't attempt to make light discussion.

He walked around the shop a bit, pausing to look closer at books that interested him. He had been quite an avid reader when he was younger and now he would no longer be attending Hogwarts he still wanted to be competent in the various subjects. He hadn't heard if the school would be closed for certain, but even if it wasn't, he knew he was to closely connected with Dumbledore's murder to be welcomed back with open arms.

Selecting some books on advanced charmwork, potions and transfiguration, he paid the nervous man behind the counter and strode onwards to his next destination. This took him into the street of Knockturn Alley, which was no more crowded than his last location. He did, however, note that less of the shops in this area had been closed.

Borgin and Burkes had been a favoured shop of the Malfoys' since before Draco was born. Lucius Malfoy had made many good deals there in the past, in both the buying and selling of dark artifacts.

Draco walked in.

The owner, Mr. Borgin, was arranging some items near the back of the shops. He was a silent, brooding type and didn't acknowledge the boy with anything more than a dark look. Draco wasn't particularly bothered, he had received a fair few dark looks in his life. He didn't take them personally.

Looking around the selves, there didn't seem to be much new stock since his last visit. Only one artifact was given any attention. Draco picked the small circular object off the shelf to examine in more closely. It appeared to be positively ancient, with strange markings and pictures surrounding a tiny hourglass.

"Is this an old version of a time-turner?" He asked, curious. It looked rather similar to one.

Mr. Borgin snorted at him.

"I can assure you that it won't have the same effects of a time-turner. The previous owner had inherited it from some dead relative and after experimenting with it once was too afraid to do so again. Apparently it connects you to the life of someone you think strongly about, takes you back in time, but to where the person was at that point in time. Rather complicated to be meddling with such things. Still don't fully understand it and I aren't about to be testing it."

With the last few words, he looked at Draco nervously. The boy had threatened him into doing similar things in the past, as had his father.

Draco's curiosity was getting the better of him. He had never had a time-turner and despite what the man said, it did seem incredibly similar to one.

"I'll give you fifty galleons. Not a bad deal, considering how little you know about it." Draco smirked, pulling out his moneybag.

Borgin contemplated it for a couple of seconds, then accepted rather reluctantly. Business hadn't been to good, of late.

As Draco left the shop, he admired the strange item. An eagle was carved on either side of the hourglass, the one of the left looking significantly more threatening than the one on the right. Flipping it over, he could see writing on the back, though most was to faint to read. It certainly wasn't english - maybe latin, Draco reasoned.

Looking up at the night sky, he realised how much time had passed since leaving home. He wondered how many lives the Death Eaters had brought an end to in those hours.

Thinking again, Draco turned back to Borgin and Burkes. The fireplace there was closer than any in Diagon Alley and it seemed time to depart.

------------

At Grimmauld Place, Harry, Ron and Hermione had been pulled away from their research by the commotion in the hallway. As the noise reached Harry's ears, he felt a knot form in his stomach and he bolted out of the library. Ron and Hermione were following close behind.

"What's going on?" He shouted, pulling at the sleeve of Arthur Weasley, who gave him an apologetic glance, but brushed him of as he ran towards the door.

It was Ginny who came up to them with answers.

"Apparently the wards around several wizarding houses were breached a few minutes ago. The Order were keeping a watch on the wards and are heading off now to see what help they can provide."

"Can I -" Harry was cut of by Mrs. Weasley.

"NO Harry, please, you have to leave things to us at this stage. You three go back to whatever you were doing, and try not to worry. Ginny, dear, think about heading off to bed at some stage."

With that, Mrs.Weasley was also off through the door, shutting it hard behind her.

The four of them stood alone in the hallway.

Ginny looked at the other three and sighed.

"I'm going to go write letters to my friends. See how _their_ holidays are going." She headed off upstairs, leaving the trio with slightly guilty expressions forming on their faces.

"Well, I think we should head back to the library. The others will be home before too long, I assume." Hermione said grimly.

Trudging back to the library, something that Harry hadn't thought of before suddenly entered his mind.

"Hang on, Ron. You know how you were saying about Regulus perhaps using the dark arts stuff here to destroy the horcrux...do you think he would have brought the locket back here to work on?"

"Yes, that would make sense." Ron answered, sounding more enthusiastic now there appeared to be an alternative to looking through musty old books.

They both looked to Hermione, waiting to see if she could find fault in this idea.

However, she nodded slowly.

"In _fact_..." She began, her eyes widening, "Go to the library, I'll meet you there in a moment..."

With that, she tore off down the corridor in the opposite direction. Harry turned to the other boy, raising his eyebrows. Ron grinned in response and with that they both darted after her. The library could wait for now.

They followed Hermione until the three of them finally arrived, puffing and panting, in what appeared to be a storage room. It was packed with as many boxes and sacks as it's dimensions enabled it to hold. Hermione pushed her way through it, checking numbers on the sacks. This went on for quite a while, until she called out from the very back of the room, struggling to hold up a sack to show the two boys.

"This one, it should be. I'm reasonably sure that this was the date we cleaned out those cabinets."

Somewhat mystified, Harry and Ron struggled through the boxes to reach her and between them carried the sack out of the room.

Once they reached the clearing of the passageway, Hermione untied the sack and rummaged through the contents of it, yanking things out in the process.

"Found it." She exclaimed triumphantly as she yanked out a metal locket.

"Merlin, Hermione...you're _brilliant_" Ron said in a hushed voice.

Harry took the large locket from him friend and a feeling of dread washed over him as he looked at it.

There was no 'S' on the front. The colour wasn't quite right. Or the size and shape, for that matter.

The disappointment was almost enough to bring tears to Harry's eyes. For the second time, he had thought the locket was found. For the second time, it wasn't the one he needed. Harry was hit by the bitter reality of the amount of lockets in the world...in this house, even, there would surely be a few more. Lockets themselves weren't uncommon. Yet the one he was searching for was. Only that one would suffice.

Ron and Hermione could tell by the look on Harry's face that something was wrong.

"Oh, Harry...it's not the same one, is it?" Hermione whispered sadly, patting him on the shoulder. "I shouldn't have got your hopes up until I knew...it's just that I was so _sure_...remembered this locket, how I couldn't open it when we were clearing out those cabinets..."

"It's not your fault at all, Hermione, don't worry." Harry said, forcing himself to smile.

His friends both returned equally forced smiles.

"We will find it eventually, Harry. We will find them all. It will just take time, I guess." Ron said, shrugging.

"Back to the library?" Harry suggested and the others nodded in agreement.

Before they reached the library again, however, more noise sounded from the entrance of the house. The Order members had returned.

Harry, Hermione and Ron met up with them in the Drawing Room and knew straight away that things hadn't gone well for them either.

"What happened?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley, dreading the answer he might receive.

"I suppose it could have gone worse...the warning that Minerva passed onto us gave us the advantage of being prepared. We managed to get any children out of the way, but a few of those whose homes were attacked, well, you wouldn't have known them, try not to think about it."

Harry could imagine what may have happened to them and followed Ron's father's advice, focusing on another aspect.

"How did Professor McGonagall know all this would happen?" Harry asked, not really sure if he would get a reply.

"Hagrid told her, apparently." Mr. Weasley told him,"Don't know how he found out, but it was sure good he did now, wasn't it?"

"_Hagrid_?" Ron asked, bewildered, as his father walked away.

Hermione looked worried.

"I hope he isn't doing anything dangerous." She said, biting her lip.

"Well, I hardly think they'd be using him as a spy, Voldemort would never buy it, knowing how close he was to Dumbledore. He probably just, I don't know, overheard something." Harry told her calmly.

"Maybe." Hermione replied, but she looked as unconvinced of this as Harry himself felt.

------------

A/N- Here you are, chapter 7 is up and chapter 8 is on the way.

Once again, thank-you for the reveiws, I love reading what you guys have to say.


	8. Danger Known and Unknown

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 8

Danger Known and Unknown

Draco arrived home that night to find his mother wearing a grim expression on her face. Her pale eyes were watched him closely from the second he stepped out of the fireplace, as though trying to see into the very depths of his soul. It was a relatively useless attempt; Narcissa wasn't known for any great talent in the field of leglimency. However, it was an indicator that something was amiss and that Draco himself was involved, or at the very less suspected of involvement.

"Is something wrong, Mother?" Draco questioned, raising his eyebrows.

At this point, Narcissa appeared to give up her silent scrutiny and sank down upon the sofa

"The Death Eater raid didn't go quite as well as our Lord hoped it might."

Draco waited. Although his mother had stopped talking, it was clear that there was more she wanted to say on the matter. Sure enough, after a few seconds had passed in silence, Narcissa continued.

"We eliminated a few potential opponents, but our attacks didn't have the impact he was hoping for. Many escaped. The Order of the Pheonix showed up on the scene early. Remarkably early. That is the thing which the Dark Lord was concerned by; the only logical thing would be that someone is slipping information to the Order."

She said all this in the quiet monotone of someone telling a series of basic facts. Draco knew for certain that there was again more to come. Namely, how he was connected to this. He could take a few stabs in the dark here, but all possibilities were unpleasant.

"He is confident that it is not one of the Death Eaters who were present tonight. At one stage, Severus may have been suspected, but now there is no doubting his loyalty. Basically, our Lord isn't sure as to how well you have stepped into the role of Death Eater, Draco. I assured him that you are loyal to him, to him alone, but I fear my opinion wasn't proof enough. He feels you may be having - having second thoughts..."

Emotion finally had reached Narcissa's voice and it wavered. Draco wasn't sure it it was worry for him, worry for herself, or fear that her son may be a traitor to their cause. It was most likely to be a mixture of all three.

Narcissa peered into her son's eyes, this time as though pleading for assurance.

"I am devoted entirely to the Dark Lord. To the Dark Lord alone." He heard himself replying, but he felt emotionally detached from the voice coming from his mouth.

His mother breathed a sigh of relief at this declaration.

"I knew you were, of course, that's what I told him. I think, however, that you need to pick up the pace of your work if you are to convince the Dark Lord of this, Draco."

"Oh, yes. Lupin. I think his connection to Potter has been rather strong; I believe him to have been of friend of Potter's father." The boy explained numbly.

"He was. The four of them went everywhere together at Hogwarts. He was good friends with that red-haired mudblood, also. The one that married Potter senior. After losing both Dumbledore and Black in such a short time, getting Lupin and maybe a couple others out of the way would no doubt break the brat-who-lived completely. Think of the revenge you can get on the boy. It would all happen at your hands."

Draco nodded, pulling his face into a smirk that he hoped didn't resemble a grimace too much.

Maybe it did look a bit fake, because his mother then shot a question at him, out of nowhere. And it was dripping with obvious suspicion.

"Who were you visiting tonight?"

"I was down at Knockturn Alley, looking at dark arts equipment and being a good little Death Eater."

Shocked at himself for having said the last part of that sentence out loud, Draco looked at his mother warily. He couldn't imagine his father having ever said anything like that to either of his parents when he was young.

"Oh...oh, that's fine, dear."

His answer had obviously been enough to satisfy Narcissa that he wasn't off making friends with Potter and gossiping with the Weasleys' about what the Dark Lord's plans were. Draco couldn't help thinking, slightly guiltily, that his mother was a bit of a fool to be convinced by such a brief description of his location that night - even if he had been having a friendly cup of tea over at the Order headquarters, he was hardly going to come right out and say it.

"Where can I find Lupin?" He asked, having been promised information.

"I was given a time and a location with which you will have no trouble capturing him. I suppose you will be bringing him here for questioning? We will, perhaps with a bit of turtore, get information on the Order." Narcissa answered, handing him a small piece of parchment.

"Yes, of course, Mother."

Everything that had needed to be said had been, Draco decided and went up towards his bedroom, removing his purchase at Borgin and Burkes from his pocket. For now, it would have to wait. As soon as he had dealt with the werewolf, he could play around with it and see what he could use it for.

As he placed the time-turner like object upon a pile of books, he looked down at the parchment he had been given by his mother.

Groaning, he realised that the time it suggested was the next morning. No breaks for Death Eaters, he thought. The location named was an area behind Hogsmeade. He knew it, vaguely. Well enough to know that there wouldn't be too many witnesses around.

Grabbing a self-inking quill, Draco jotted down two rushed notes and ran up to the family owlery. Choosing a couple of owls, he commanded one be taken to Crabbe and the other to Goyle. Urgently.

-------------

Harry Potter lay awake in his bed that night, unable to sleep. The horcruxes issue weighed heavily on his shoulders, even with the help of Ron and Hermione, he didn't seem to be getting far. He wondered if Dumbledore would have expected another to have been destroyed by now. Those witches and wizards who had been killed mere hours ago...the sooner Harry defeated Voldemort, the sooner innocent people would stop dying.

He remembered the feeling he had felt seconds before he had realised that that locket too was the wrong one. For a fraction of time, maybe a minute, he had believed they had found the horcux.

Climbing out of bed, he decided to take a walk, use the quiet of the night to think where the horcruxes may be hidden.

The House of Black was now eerily silent, with all but one inhabitant asleep. Harry retraced the path he had taken with Ron and Ginny once, earlier in the holidays, winding back up in the dark room where Ron had found the design of the Dark Mark.

"Lumos." Harry murmered, thankful that the Ministry was now allowing people of his age to use magic out of school.

Now that he could see more clearly, he found an area where the floorboards were relatively clean and sat down. Noticing the old parchment his friend had thrown to the floor a few days earlier, he reached for it and looked at the image more closely.

The Dark Mark could only be described as disturbing and Harry wondered about what type of person could think up and then draw such a thing.

It dawned on him that it could have been Regulus Black, but then Harry realised that the dark mark would have been used well before his time as a Death Eater.

The strange aura Harry had felt last time he had been in the room was slowly returning to him and Harry stood up, thinking about leaving. There was definately something about it he wasn't to sure about.

Walking over to the shelves, Harry moved the beam of light coming from his wand over the items. The topmost shelf was above the level of Harry's head. Idly, he reached up and moved his hand across the shelf to see if there was anything up there.

Just dust. And more dust.

He drifted his hand further across, but there didn't seem to be anything up there.

Then one of his fingers connected with something cold.

He yanked his hand away fast as he jumped backwards.

--------------

Once more, Minerva found Rubeus Hagrid in her office, this time at a ridiculous hour of the morning. This time, however, she intended to get to the bottom of the issue no matter how long it might take.

"What is it, Rubeus?" She asked in the most patient sounding voice that she could muster.

"Well, yeh see Professor..."

Minerva was reminded of the days that she had spent in the past, prying information out of students over the location of their homework and why they had been caught wandering corridors in late hours of the night. They always acted the same, reluctant to talk unless they gave too much away, clinging to some desperate hope that they would get away with the various offence.

"I require you to tell me what you came here intending to say."

This time she had added the authorative tone that she normally found got the best results.

"I - I overheard someone sayin' that they're gonna kill Remus!" The half-giant said, destressed, his deep voice trembling.

The Headmistress buried her face in her hands. The information that Hagrid had provided them last time had been accurate. Exceptionally accurate.

Remus Lupin's safety would have to be checked, but at that moment she was just as anxious to find Hagrid's information source. Just because it had proved true once didn't necessarily mean it would work out the same twice. Yet if it did, it could be a valuable way for the Order to gain news of their opponents in the future.

"Back o' Hogsmeade, this mornin'...yeh have t'do something..." He continued.

Details of time and location confirmed Minerva's suspicions. Those that attend the pubs Hagrid often visited, she could see them maybe letting something slip without realising other's were listening, but they were hardly likely to elaborate.

She knew that there had been a full moon that night, if she looked out the window she may even still be able to see it, lingering in the morning sky. The shrieking shack had remained a reasonable location for Lupin's transformations, especially now they had no one qualified to make the wolf's bane potion he had been using at one stage. He had been in the area the previous day, looking rather worse for wear, in Minerva's opinion.

He would be weak following the transformation.

Assuming the Death Eater's had been aware of all this, she had to admit it seemed like the perfect time to catch the man unprepared. Except, of course, that Hagrid had stumble upon news of the plan.

"Who told you this, Rubeus?" She asked, getting straight to the point.

"I told yeh! I overheard it, down at me pub." Rubeus protested and Minerva saw him looking up at Dumbledore's portrait as he did so.

"Rubeus, if someone is telling you all this, it is vital for us to know who."

She was surprised at how well he was managing to with-hold such information. She had considered him in the past to be terribly unreliable where secrets were concerned. He never would release them on purpose, but he did seem to let his tongue slip quite often. It was interesting that he felt such need to keep quiet on this issue.

Minerva glanced over at the clock. As much as she would have liked to pursue the matter, if they were to do something to help Remus, they would have to do so soon.

First the Order would have to be consulted, as once more there was the possibility of a trap. And there would remain one until she find out the identity of Hagrid's informer.

-------------------

The boy with the white-blond hair landed silently on the ground just out of Hogsmeade. From where he dismounted his broomstick, he could see the shrieking shack, dark against the horizon.

The sun was now rising, the moon nowhere in sight.

Two large thumps could be heard behind him, signifying that Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle had arrived on the scene. Draco hoped their flying abilities would be sufficient for the mission ahead.

Reaching into the bag he carried, Draco fingered the soft multi-coloured material. The invisibility cloak that Bellatrix had reluctantly lent him was old, fraying and torn in several places. Nowhere near as good as Potter's one, he admitted to himself. But it would do.

He signalled his cronies to move backwards behind the brick building next to them. Waiting until a faint outline of a figure came into view, Draco ducked into the shadows.

It was a relatively good situation; as long as the tired man was not alerted to their presense, Draco could easily get him with a simple stunning charm.

No fighting, no gore.

A shadow drifted into Draco's line of vision. The figure that followed it was the rugged one of the boy's old Professor. Now...before his missed the chance...

"Stupefy." He murmered.

Success. Remus Lupin flopped to the ground and Draco ran over to him, Crabbe and Goyle on each side. They had been over the plan, there was no need for talk. Draco added a body-bind for good measure. It was a favourite of his.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Draco then whispered as the man hovered up into the air.

Goyle removed the invisibility cloak from the bag, wrapping it around Lupin, as fast and tight as possible. Crabbe secured it in place.

With Lupin still levitating, the three of them mounted their broomsticks and took off. Higher and higher, until they were above the clouds and could only just make out Hogsmeade in the distance.

By the time Arthur, Tonks and Minerva arrived, there was no evidence of any activity.

-------------

It was several hours before Draco, Crabbe and Goyle arrived back at the Malfoy mansion. All three of them were exhausted from the flight.

This was true for Draco in particular; keeping up the 'Wingardium Leviosa' charm and making sure Lupin didn't go plummetting to his death had taken up a great deal more energy than the boy had anticipated. They had had to land a few times in deserted areas for Draco to rest; he didn't trust that either of his friend had the ability to get the man in the air - he had seen what had happened to the china cup Goyle had practised on mere months before.

He assumed that there must have been easier options. A portkey would have been better, but they were monitered closely by the Ministry. He could have called upon another Death Eater to create an illegal one, but such steps would have taken time.

At least now the Dark Lord might decide to look elsewhere for a spy.

He levitated Lupin into the house and upstairs into the drawing room.

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A/N - I would like to again thank all of you who have taken the time to review, it helps inspire me to get another chapter up quickly! Yeah, I'm quite pleased with where this is heading at the moment, don't worry, I have some ideas...next chapter should be up within a few days of this one.


	9. And Then In Time Itself

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 9

And Then In Time Itself

Draco was pleased he now had a bit of time to himself without having to constantly be procrastinating.

As he slumped back against the velvet chair, he absent-mindedly tossed his latest purchase between his two hands. It really did strongly resemble a time-turner, in the boy's opinion. He expected that it would work in a very similar way, regardless of what old Borgin had said. It was clear the man knew very little about the object; what he did know was hardly likely to be reliable.

A snort sounded from the back of the room and was followed by tired groaning. Remus Lupin was returning to the world of the living.

Jumping to his feet and retrieving his wand, Draco then waved it in the direction of his former professor.

"Stupefy"

The room fell back into silence as Lupin was sent back into his unconscious state.

Draco settled back down into his chair. So far, things really were seeming ridiculously easy. He assumed they would continue to go just as well, as long as Lupin made that much noise each time the stunning spell wore off.

He was unable to resist smirking to himself.

His spirits were slightly dampened, however, as his mind drifted to the meeting his mother was currently attending. The fate of the werewolf would be decided there.

And also whether Draco now had his name wiped off the 'Death Eater who may have Befriended the Order of the Pheonix and is Passing on Valuable Information and Therefore must be Subjected to Curses, Torture and Death' list.

Either way, Narcissa had made it clear to her son that anything extra he could do for their lord would definately work in his favour. Capturing Lupin was probably the first step, he would have to do more to secure his position in the ring of Death Eaters.

Wincing at the thought of this, Draco attempted to distract himself from his unclear future by turning his attention back to the time-turner he was grasping in his left hand. Unusual magical objects intrigued him a great deal. And this was certainly appeared unusual. Once more, he pondered the meaning of the pictures carved into the sides.

As he did so, the eagles seemed to stare back at him from their frozen positions aside the hourglass.

Placing a finger on each side of the tiny hourglass, not too firmly - the glass looked impossibly thin, Draco lightly pushed it around. It spun easily, perhaps a bit too easily...and the room around him transformed into a whirling mist of colours, his feet were pulled away from the ground...or maybe the ground was in fact no longer there...

A second or two later, Draco felt his feet slam against hard concrete. The force of the impact caused hin to fall backwards and he lay sprawled on the pavement as the world around him began to materialise.

Struggling to take his new surroundings in, he pulled himself up onto his feet. His whole body was aching and in all honesty he felt rather dizzy.

Draco had read a fair few books mentioning time-turners; he was sure that the effects of using one weren't quite the same as this. He glanced down at the object warily, wondering what it was exactly. Maybe it had been a mistake using it without researching it first.

Would spinning the hourglass back the other way be sufficient to take him back home? At that moment, he couldn't bring himself to try. The results of it failing could prove disastrous.

The street that Draco now found himself standing on was rather dark. It was obviously nighttime, Draco reasoned, before mentally smacking himself in the forehead for pointing out something so obvious.

Street-lamps lined the edge of the street, casting a faint illumination over the road and houses. From what he could make out, the street was unlike anywhere that Draco had been before. It was all too...too... neat, maybe.

Identical white picket fences surrounded the carefully pruned garden that lay out the front of each house. The houses themselves appeared to have been each made to a very similar design. Something about the perfected of the street cast a shadow of doubt over Draco's mind.

Something about it all didn't seem quite right. He wasn't quite sure was it was, but he was sure of one thing about the street.

It was Muggle.

Thoroughly, totally, one hundred per cent Muggle.

Of all the places he could have wound up, he ended up on a muggle street where, in Draco's humble opinion, no wizard should ever have to be. Something about the street spelled it all out - anything unusual to them was NOT welcome.

Which was why Draco stood rapt in amazement when the street lights began to switch themselves off in a rythmical manner that he felt could only be desribed as _magical._

--------------------

Back at Grimmauld Place, the Boy-Who-Lived dragged a wooden carton over to where the shelves were. He cautiously placed his weight on the box, a bit at a time. When it seemed certain that it would hold his weight, he stood up fully and moved the beam of light from his wand over the topmost shelf.

He could now see the extent of the dust covering the shelf, which he had ran his hand through minutes before. At the very far side of the shelf, however, something metal was reflecting the light.

Sure that this must have been the cold surface that had made him jump earlier, Harry blew the dust of it and used his wand to drag it closer to him.

He could now make out what the object was.

Harry was sure his heart skipped a beat as he took in the image of the silver locket lying on the shelf before him, melted straight through the centre.

He could just make out near the edges, the remains of a design that had once formed the letter 'S'.

-------------------

Harry managed to restrain himself from awakening his friends until the first rays of sunlight began

to shine through the bedroom windows.

"It certainly seems convincing." Hermione murmered as she carefully examined the locket.

Harry and Ron shared beaming smiles. Ron's grin hadn't left his face for even a second since hearing Harry's story that morning before breakfast.

"Well, that was simple enough, old Regulus did it all for us. I have to admit, I thought we were all kind of wasting time, not getting anywhere, but now..." Ron said cheerfully.

He took the locket from Hermione and chucked it in the air, high enough that it was close to scraping the library roof. Harry intercepted it as it fell back down through the air. Ron let out a sound of good-humoured protest.

Hermione watched the locket silently.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Ron asked, bewildered at the worried look forming on his friend's face.

"Do you...do you think that it might have been a bit _too_ simple?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Harry felt an icy chill run through his body, and shuddered. Not again, he pleaded silently, please _not again. _

"No." Ron said, straight away. "This is the locket, the horcrux must have been destroyed - hence the melting, and everything ties in with our theories. I think that this time, it is as straight-forward as it appears to be."

Harry looked up at at him thankfully and Hermione, who appeared reassured by Ron's direct statements, broke back into a grin.

"I realise all that, of course, but it just seemed a bit too good to be true for a second there...there's still a few unanswered questions, isn't there? I wonder how Regulus found out about it, it took Dumbledore himself long enough to work out, didn't it? More importantly, how did he destroy it?"

"I guess we might never know the full answer for the first question, but as to the second, well, we're going to have to figure that out at some stage, aren't we?" Harry answered, shrugging slightly.

"Actually, that reminds me, I was doing some late night reading last-"

Hermione was cut off by a knock at the door.

"Come in." Harry called. Hermione had put a nice little charm on the door so that no one could enter without direct invitation while they were speaking of the horcruxes.

Arthur Weasley walked into the library with McGonagall close behind. Their expressions were grim, which wasn't uncommon anymore.

_Another attack_, Harry mentally groaned. The locket might be out of the way now, but he had better get a move on with the other three, or there wouldn't be any muggles left.

"Harry, I have some news that you may find quite unpleasant." Mr. Weasley began, and Harry's stomach clenched as he realised that it directly involved him this time.

"Remus disappeared earlier this morning. We don't have many details so far, but it may be best for you to expect the worst. I'm so sorry, Harry." Mr Weasley patted Harry on the back.

Their former Transfiguration teacher hovered in the background. McGonagall looked rather apologetic as she watched the scene before her. Ron looked rather shocked, but Harry and Hermione appeared most affected by this information. Seeing the tears forming in Hermione's eyes and the defeated, wary expression that Harry wore to much as of late returning to his face, Minerva looked away.

-----------------

Squinting his eyes, Draco could decipher the formation of a person walking down the street towards him. It was the street-lamps in the path of this figure that were the ones sinking into darkness.

This confused the pale-haired boy somewhat; he wasn't sure what someone who clearly seemed magical would be doing in such a place. However, before he had time to think this over too much, he remembered a basic law of time travel; you shouldn't be seen. Draco ducked down into the shadows of the garden behind him, hoping that the muggle inhabitants were asleep.

As the mysterious figure moved closer, he observed that it a robed man, no doubt a wizard. Tall and thin, his face remained in the shadows. Draco felt the cold taste of fear come over to him...a feeling that he perhaps knew already the stranger's identity.

It seemed the wizard was going to walk past where Draco was crouching, half-hidden behind a shrub. He looked around for a better place to hide, but could see nowhere suitable. He dreaded confronting this man, for a reason that he himself wasn't totally aware of.

However, before reaching the house outside which Draco was hiding, the man stopped and pulled himself up into a sitting postion upon a brick wall. Draco watched carefully, noticing for the first time the stationary shadow of a cat upon it. He blinked twice as the cat transformed into a witch. The dim light prevented recognisation, yet he happened to know the only witch with the ability to become a cat at will.

_McGonagall._

He hoped against hope that the she hadn't been there for very long. Or that if she had, she hadn't noticed his arrival. And then something else made sense...

Draco Malfoy shivered unintentionally as he realised who the wizard was.

_Dumbledore._

The two were talking quietly, unaware of the boy watching them from a garden not terribly far away. Then, from what Draco could tell, they turned their attention to the sky. And an extremely large man on a flying motorbike.

Surely the muggles would hear it? Draco contemplated this, glancing back at the dark windows of the house behind him. How could they miss seeing it, if they woke up? Wouldn't Hagrid's _size_ in itself be enough to make them realise something was happened?

_What_ was happening?

He couldn't hear what was being said between McGonagall and Dumbledore. They were talking to the half-giant now, looking at something...Draco moved out from behind the shrub a bit more, attempting to see what Hagrid had passed to Dumbledore.

There wasn't enough light for him to tell.

Hagrid suddenly let out a howl that even Lupin would have had trouble beating, and it took everything Draco had to stop him from jumping out from his sanctuary.

Hagrid's voice was louder now, though muffled as though he was crying. Draco managed to make out the names 'Lily' and 'James' and something about muggles. This made slightly more sense to him, no doubt this was the night that Lily and James Potter had died, and all those muggles that Wormtail killed.

Draco ducked out from the shrub and moved to behind a bush a couple of feet closer to the older wizards and witch.

He glanced down at the time-turner, still clutched tightly in his fist. Why had he arrived in this time and place? He replayed Borgin's words in his mind, looking for something that may offer him answers.

_Connects you to the life of someone_. That's what he had said... it connects you to the life of someone _you think strongly about_.

The puzzle pieces started to fit together in the back of his mind. He remembered struggling to bring himself to kill Dumbledore, someone he despised...but at the same time...admired? He wasn't sure about that.

But it seemed likely that any time-travelling he did would be connected to the wizard whose face had began to haunt his nightmares each night.

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A/N- REALLY sorry I took so long for this chapter. We were out of town for my great-grandmothers 105th birthday (Yikes!) and I didn't have computer access.

Thanks again for the reveiws!


	10. Trust and Suspicion

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 10

Trust and Suspicion

Rubeus Hagrid took a step backwards to take in the full extent of his handywork. After adding the last finishing touches to his cabin, he was forced to admit that it wasn't quite up to the standard of his previous home. He made a rather clumsy builder, in all truth.

But it would do.

Wiping a hand over his sweaty brow, he lowered himself to the ground and surveyed the grounds. The lake was reflecting the last rays of the evening sun and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood majestically nearby.

His eyes then drifted warily to the border of the Forbidden Forest.

The forest lay enveloped in silence, with not even the rustle of leaves in a non-existent breeze. It wouldn't have seemed very threatening to one who didn't know the dangers the forest held. It wouldn't have usually seemed threatening to a half-giant who had been know to befriend the 'monsters' it held.

Yet Rubeus eyed it with uncertainly.

He had an appointment amidst the dark, looming trees. Near the very back of the forest, further than the wards that protected Hogwarts extended to. Back where the trees were the eldest and most gnarled.

It wasn't his first meeting there.

Yet the doubt that had crept into his mind during each meeting lingered still, to the point where he almost felt it may be better not to return. That it may be safer to stay right where he was.

He cast another look up at the school, towering above him. No one was inside the building. To the best of his knowledge, Minerva was still at Grimmauld Place. A subdued feeling of guilt drifted over him, which made way for the intense lonliness that had haunted him since the Headmaster's death.

Rubeus climbed to his feet and, having resolved to give the appointment a miss, reached forward to open the roughly created door to his cabin.

The moment his hand made contact with the door, distant sounding music drifted into his ears, breaking through the silence. Rubeus slowing pulled his hand back as he turned around, stunned, searching for the source of the music.

He had heard it before.

His eyes searched the skies for a familiar phoenix.

A phoenix by the name of Fawkes, to be exact, who had disappeared in the time following Albus Dumbledore's phoenix.

The pheonix song continued to sound as Rubeus unsuccessfully attempted to find the source. And as the duration of the music ceased, Rubeus still hadn't located Fawkes. Disappointed at the loss of what had felt like a connection to his former mentor, he dabbed at his eyes with his oversized handkerchief before blowing his nose loudly. Then, for a second time, he reached out his hand to open the cabin door.

Once more he removed it.

Realisation had dawned on him and he turned back towards the dark, interweaving mass of forestation.

And when he cast one last hopeful look up at the sky, he could swear he glimpsed a bright creature disappear from view.

"If yeh really think it's for the best, Professer."

With that, he marched determinedly into the darkness.

Meanwhile, the castle which rose high above the tallest tree was no longer as empty as it had been mere minutes ago.

Having just arrived back at the school, Minerva looked out of her office window in time to glimpse Rubeus enter the forest, illuminated in the last fading beams of sunlight. A look of curiousity drifted over the women's lined features as the logical reasoning that Hagrid often spent time in the forest was joined by speculation.

--------------

As the shadowed figure of Albus Dumbledore bent downwards, seemingly placing the indistinct object he was holding down outside a door, Draco further analysed his own situation.

He found himself looking back down at the time-turner, thoughtlessly rolling it around in the palm of his hand.

The Dark Lord would be looking for further confirmation of the boy's loyalty sooner or later. Most likely sooner rather than later. And here he was, stuck in the past and following the life of Dumbledore, the only one the Dark Lord was said to fear. Draco found that he actually agreed in the light side's belief that the greatest dark wizard of the time had harboured some amount of fear of the former headmaster. Dumbledore had been at one stage powerful, with a broad extent of knowledge, experience and a fair few secrets as well.

Secrets the Draco was in a very good position to discover.

If he then passed anything useful back to the Dark Lord, surely he would never again be suspected of betraying him? Even as Draco thought this, he had to shove disagreeing thoughts out of his head.

Before he had time to assure himself that he was doing the best thing for his mother and him, one finger knocked a little too forcefully against the small hourglass.

Draco realised the consequence of this careless action as his feet were once more jolted up from the grounds and disorientating clashes of colour flew past his eyes. He promptly squeezed his eyes shut as a feeling of nausea immediately washed over him.

Then, as he had experienced the first time, a force threw him down upon solid ground and he lay there absorbing the pain as he waited anxiously for his vision to clear.

He had an unpleasant feeling that this round had taken even more energy from him than the first.

This wasn't helped by his own knowledge of the often lethal cases that could result from playing around with mysterious objects purchased at places such as Borgin and Burkes.

Slowly his surroundings were now beginning to develop distinct forms.

Underneath his hands, he could feel carpet. Carpet was more a muggle associated thing. The mansion that Draco called 'home' had no carpet, but the polished stone floors, a symbol of grandeur seen in places inhabited by purebood families such as his own.

The muggle-loving Weasleys' pathetic excuse of a home probably had carpet. Very, very tatty and torn carpet.

It was really quite sad, Draco noted.

He was then rather surprised at having harboured such a...a _Hufflepuff _thought. He'd have to make sure never to feel empathy towards such a family again.

One thing often could lead to another, much much worse thing.

First feelings of sympathy, next he could find himself running around hugging muggles.

He shuddered at the very thought. It would most certainly not be a good thing for a training Death Eater, bringer of evil and misfurtune, to be seen doing.

On the topic of muggles, the house that he now found himself lying on the floor of seemed likely to be owned by one. The photos placed above the fireplace weren't moving. There was a large square object with a blackened screen that Draco assumed must be one of those _Tele Vision_ things that he hard heard talk of, sitting upon a small nearby table.

In fact, nothing that he could see looked remotely magical.

No one was around, which was lucky as Draco hadn't yet taken the initiative of hiding himself from view. As a precaution, he quickly ducked down into the enclosed space behind the couch; it would have to do for now.

Dumbledore was surely around here somewhere. Wasn't that how the time-turner thing was supposed to work?

Yet he did find it rather strange that the old wizard would spend such a great portion of time amongst muggle dwellings. The man was obviously less sane than Draco thought he was. Not that he would have ever bet many galleons on the old man's sanity.

-----------------

Harry Potter lay in his bed, once more finding himself quite unable to sleep. He felt as though all the events in his past were finally catching up with him, threatening to overtake him unless he did something to stop it.

First his parents had been killed.

Next Cedric had been killed, for which Harry still felt the occasional lingering guilt.

Then his godfather, Sirius, who he had cared for immensely, had been killed. Harry still felt frequent pain and guilt over this.

Professor Dumbledore had followed, less than a year after Sirius. Harry's mentor, and now that he had thought about it, a man who had in many ways been a distant grandfather towards him.

Would Remus be the next, in this endless trail of deaths? The last person similar to a father-figure in Harry's life, would be become the next victim?

He dreaded the answer. And just when the tired man had found happiness in his dreary world...with Nymphadora Tonks, what would happen to her if Remus died?

An intense feeling of restlessness that had been growing inside of him since Dumbledore'd death was now exceptionally strong. He _knew_ he couldn't risk confontation with Voldemort until the horcruxes were accounted for and destroyed, but he felt that they were making too little progress. There were still three horcruxes to go, not counting the dark wizard himself.

And he still wasn't sure what they were, let alone how to find them.

Still, it wasn't although they were getting nowhere...his mind drifted back to a conversation he had had with Hermione and Ron the previous day...

"Well, I think I have discovered a bit more about the object used for one of the last horcruxes..." Hermione said, her cheeks flushed. It seemed likely that she had been waiting some time for an appropriate opportunity to tell them.

"And?" Ron prompted, grinning expectantly.

Good news seemed rare and precious as of late.

Harry, whose mind at the time was still on Lupin and his whereabouts, didn't respond, but looked up to show he was listening.

"I actually found quite a few books concerning the founders of Hogwarts. One of them stated that Godric Gryffindor, since he had no heirs, had charmed all of his possessions to evaporate as he drew his last breath. The only exception that I could find to this was his sword and the chance of that being a horcrux seems non-existant..."

"Yeah, Dumbledore didn't think it could be." Harry added in.

"Yes," Hermione continued, nodding, "so I think we can pretty well eliminate an item of Gryffindor's from the list. Rowena Ravenclaw, however, seems a good deal more promising. I have read more than one book mentioning her tendency to invent enchantments and spells. She would place them on objects and then use these to teach her classes of magical techniques, and also, I read, moral values. These books claimed that a few of these enchanted items are thought to still be around somewhere."

"Any idea what these items are? What they look like?" Harry asked, more enthusiastic now they were doing something again.

"No, the books I have read so far were all extremely vague about this. One did say that they were always recognisable as inventions of Ravenclaw, though. At least, if we assume that V-Voldemort got his hands on one of them, it narrows it down slightly."

"So that thing of Hufflepuff's that you saw in the pensieve, Harry... and something of Ravenclaw's, not Gryffindor's...then, we decided the other one was that snake of his, didn't we?" Ron questioned.

"Could be, I don't know for definate, but Dumbledore expected Nagini might be..." The dark-haired boy answered, looking thoughtful.

"That could be a difficult one then, couldn't it." Ron looked close to laughing and Harry was inclined to as well, imagining them kidnapping ( or snakenapping? ) the huge animal without being noticed.

Then the humourous side faded away as he realised he would, at some stage, find himself doing something very similar if Nagini was indeed a horcrux. Then there would very literally be the devil to pay if they were caught.

Harry snapped back into the present as he arrived at what had been the second lot of disturbing news of the day.

The conversation that Ginny had overheard about an information leak inside the Order.

Something about this made Harry very uncomfortable. He had been thinking of the Order of the Phoenix as a group fully and reliably on his side, people whom his friends and him could trust with their lives if they really had too. Now this belief had been extremely shaken.

The boy now realised exactly how quiet the horcrux issue had to be kept.

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A/N - I am truely sorry that it took so long again. I don't expect to be as busy for the next few weeks and hopefully I can update more!

I would like to now take the time to thank

Forever Harry, Sailor Wade, Nemo Returning, nljfs, Miz, MyStOrIeS, WritersPassion25, volleyballblonde, Chinese Phoenix, MorganRay, urges, anna, kim, Aubs and Aidan

for their encouraging reviews ) Thanks!


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